Vicissitude
by Jestry
Summary: He's toyed with the lives of others for as long as he can remember, but somewhere along the way, he's forgotten how to live himself. JoshxRhyme.
1. prelude

AN: Hihi. Yeah, that's right, I'm back with a Josh/Rhyme fic. Tell me what you think. (:

* * *

_**prelude**; introduction_

* * *

_I used to love. I used to hate._

_I used to have friends._

_But now, all I know is power._

_Sometimes, I feel like it's all been a big mistake.

* * *

_

_from: Yoshiya Kiryu_  
_to: reapers of Shibuya UG  
cc: Sanae Hanekoma_

I'm leaving for the RG, and relinquishing the role of Composer to Koki Kariya.

If all goes well, I won't be back for a very long time.

Meanwhile, I remind you all to keep fighting for the worthy souls of Shibuya, for that is the true duty of a Reaper.

- Yoshiya Kiryu

* * *

_from: Yoshiya Kiryu  
to: Koki Kariya_

I know. You'll want to erase me for this. Unfortunately for you, I'll be out of the UG when you get this.

I own you an explanation. Perhaps you'll even understand.

When you live forever, you forget to cherish life. When the world revolves around you, power is meaningless. When you think you have everything you want, then you realize that in reality, you have nothing. No hopes, no dreams, no aspirations. Nothing.

I was young and stupid (though also rather brilliant, if I must say so myself) when I let this game take over my life. I willingly left the RG to carry out my quixotic plans of saving the souls. I realize now, that I never got a chance to really _live_.

At first, the power overwhelmed me. But, judging souls who experienced what I never had, left a bittersweet feeling in my mouth. I never lived. I intend to do so _now_.

As for why you? You've never accepted a rank-up, never grasped at power. You understand that moseying on the bottom, there's dynamics, action, and hope. You understand that to really achieve true happiness, we must leave a sliver for the imagination. While the others grope at supremacy, I believe you actually understand the true nature and purpose of the game.

For that, I trust you over anyone else.

You hate me. You hate this job. I wish there was a better choice, but there isn't. I fully intend on leaving the dead and learning how to live. You'd make a better Composer than me anyway.

Think of the souls of Shibuya. With your sacrifice, under your watchful eye, the game will remain what it is, a test of moral conscience, mental acuity, and physical stamina to determine the worthy.

Your discomfort for the dignity of all the souls that ever come to pass. It's a more-than-fair-trade if I don't say so myself.

I don't think I've ever said this word to anyone before. You'll be the first. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for backing you in a corner with no way out. But this is just the way it is.

Good luck, the second Composer of Shibuya UG.

- Joshua


	2. dissonance

* * *

_**dissonance**; lack of harmony_

* * *

The gentle murmur of various conversations bubbles and swells around me like a river flows around a rock. It's the first day of school, and I'm lucky that everyone is so busy catching up with their friends on the events of the summer, or I might actually be noticed. I sit alone along the side of a wall, watching schoolgirls chatter and twirl their skirts, schoolboys show off in front of said schoolgirls, and wonder how I could have ever thought that the teenage world was worth exploring.

I'm out of my mind. Crazed. Insane. Maybe the absolute power has finally gotten to me at last.

Still, despite my disgust, despite everything, I find myself looking up, eyes flickering through the endless crowd. I find myself scanning, searching, for something that I can't place my finger on. A flash of bright orange catches my eye, and the second our eyes meet, I know that I've found what I've been looking for.

If I had been Neku, I would have ran the other way, but this boy, despite everything that I've done to him, still trusts me. A ghost of a smile flits over his face as he makes his way towards my lonely wall.

"Josh?"

_Oh for the love of CAT, not this early on in the day. Oh no._ I narrow my eyes at him, feigning confusion.

"What? Are you talking to me?"

Something falters in the smile, crumbles in those hopeful eyes. Like a pane of glass, the boy shatters before my eyes, and I almost feel bad.

"Never mind then. Sorry, I mistook you for someone else." The last few words rush out in a mumble before he ducks his face into his collar, and strides off. I watch him go, orange on blue on white, and suddenly, I remember why I've come back to reality.

* * *

Neku Sakuraba.

In the beginning, I thought I understood this kid. He was your stereotypical people-don't-understand-me teen. He liked art, he liked music. He could express himself in his head, he couldn't communicate that to anyone else, but it didn't matter to him anyway.

He was almost like me, minus the ambitious drive for power.

I liked him because I thought understood him. I liked him because I thought I knew how he would react in every situation. I liked him because he was predictable, and that gave me control.

I liked him enough to kill him. I liked him enough to use him in my contest with Kitaniji. I liked him enough to bring him to the UG, and that's when everything fell apart. He changed, and I couldn't understand or control anything anymore. That's when I stopped liking him, when my grip started slipping.

I don't blame Shiki, Rhyme, and Beat for changing him, for teaching him the meaning of friendship, love, self-sacrifice, and all that jazz. I don't blame them for drawing him out of his dark reclusive shell; the boy deserves it after all I've put him through anyway. It's just that he was so like me, and now he _knows_. He was so like me, and yet I still don't _know_.

It never used to matter before, but now, for some reason, it bothers me like nothing ever has before. Neku Sakuraba, who was once as socially pathetic as I was, if not more, has enlightened himself. And I haven't. I want what they all have. In the game of Life, I'll never miss out. I can't lose to Neku. I can't lose to anyone.

* * *

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. There's a subtle shift in the atmosphere as the crowd picks itself up and flows into the various classrooms that surround the courtyard. I sigh, sling my bag over my shoulder, and follow them.

I enter my classroom, hugging the shadows and corners to avoid attention. Why? Why close myself off when the whole idea was to open myself? I don't know. Old habits are hard to change.

Sliding into a generic seat near the back, I take a quick scan of the room, looking for the same people that I've been looking for throughout the entire day, hoping against hope that I won't find them. I don't want to grovel to Neku and his friends. In fact, I downright refuse. I don't think I could take their pity, knowing someone who once lorded over them has fallen so low. No, I'll rise above them, exert my power, manipulate them… and… and… I furrow my brow in confusion. Isn't that what I wanted to avoid? But what use are people who don't do anything for you?

My preliminary check done, I breathe out in relief. No awkward conversations, confrontations, or potential death threats to redress their grievances. Whew.

I turn my attention to the board - Algebra II/Trig – and fight the urge to laugh. Who knew those late night tutoring sessions with Sho would actually come in useful?

Laughing and chattering distracts me from my math problem. I look up and see two girls walk through the door, and I realize I've celebrated a bit too early.

Rhyme. Shiki.

_Oh frick._

The logical explanation would be to pretend I don't know them, but I find myself ducking furiously to avoid their scrutiny. This instinctive move turns out to be counterproductive, as my actions only confirm my guilt. Stealing a glance at them through the wisps of my blond bangs, I am fully aware of their pointed glances towards my direction. _Darn_.

They pick seats across the room, but the piercing glare Shiki sends me before she turns around to face the front reminds me that in no way am I off the hook. Control is spinning out of my grasp, floating away on the warm breeze that blows past the door. It slips through my fingers like water filters through a sieve, and the more I grab for it, the faster it slides away.

And in the end, I just let it slip away. I turn my thoughts grimly to the problems in front of me, drawing on Sho's lessons of long ago to solve the simple algebraic equation. In a world where everything is going wrong, where I don't know how to make anything right again, I'm starting to find a strange solace in math. The way the numbers line up perfectly, the way I know for sure that x is 4, the way I can plug it back to check and recheck that I am indeed right, gives me a strange semblance of order. The illusion is all I have, and I cling to it as if it is reality, smirking with sadistic satisfaction as I finish not only class work, but homework as well, a full ten minutes before the end of class.

All good things come to an end, and so the bliss of my mathematical haven is broken by the discordant jarring of the bell. Like a cat, Shiki pounces on me before I can run, catching me right before I can make my escape.

"Josh."

"Shiki." I mimic her disapproving stare. I'm past the stage of denial. I can face this. I can't be intimidated by _her_, of all people.

"What are you doing here? Planning to screw our lives over again?" I hadn't expected them to welcome me with open arms, but I hadn't expected blatant hostility either.

_Whoa there Shiki. When did you get so confident? Weren't you groveling in Eri's shadow last time I saw you?_

Shiki has _it_ too. I can read her like an open book. She's afraid I'm going to force her friends to do something horrible against their will. And she wants to protect them from me. _She has something worth caring about_.

My stomach writhes as if an invisible fist has punched it. Jealousy? No, of course not. I'm not jealous of Neku, and I'm not jealous of Shiki. I'm not jealous of a pathetic boy, and I'm not jealous of a foolish girl. I'm simply annoyed at her pointless unwarranted accusations. That's all.

"As if you're important enough for me to spend my life planning over."

The words are out of my mouth before I can take them back. Silence blows between us like a cold wind. Shiki pivots angrily, her face twisted in a frustrated scowl. She storms off, footsteps echoing loudly in the empty hallway, leaving me wondering if I deserve more than this snub for my actions.

It's only then that I notice Rhyme, still standing there, pale delicate face turned towards me, watching my next move.

"She's been mad at you ever since she found out you killed Neku," the girl explains, almost kindly. She's read my mind. How did she know I was going to ask that?

"Oh." Cue awkward silence. I _did_ kill Neku. Call it collateral damage, in an extremely distorted sense.

"You could have destroyed Shibuya, and you could have erased us all. But you didn't."

Rhyme hasn't changed. She's still the optimist, the mediator, and the quiet thinker. Her words don't make me feel any better, but perhaps that's only because there was no guilt to begin with.

"She doesn't hate you though. None of us do." Rhyme reassures me, taking my stoic silence for tortured agony.

It's a lie. No one is that forgiving. Not even Rhyme. I see the distant figure of Beat walking down the hallway, no doubt searching for his lost sister. Talking to Rhyme is strangely refreshing, but I doubt Beat is equally accepting.

I shrug in reply, and turn the other way. "Your brother's looking for you. And I should go now." _I don't want to talk about this._

She nods, turns, and walks away. I scuff my shoes on the gray sidewalk, watching a smear of mud stain the slate. When I look up, the two siblings are already long gone.

Lies are malicious and deceiving, but it'd be a lie if I said they didn't make me feel better. _They don't hate me_. I bite my lip. _Not that I cared anyway._

Feeling strangely at perturbed, I turn my back on the school, and head towards WildKat Café.


	3. poco a poco

AN: If you haven't figured this out already, all the chapters in this story are music themed. It's about Rhyme after all. I thought that people would know them, but I forgot not everyone is a music dork like me, so I'm going to go back and start defining the terms. Ooops, I'm pretty inconsiderate. xD

* * *

_**poco a poco**; __little by little  
_

_

* * *

_If I worm my way into Neku's circle, will everything be okay again? Will I be able to stop being myself up and questioning my every move? Will I be able to move on with life?

I sure hope so. I hate wondering.

I've never felt so unsure in my life. I've never felt so restless, and so, figuratively speaking, lost. I have questions I don't have answers for. I have problems I don't have solutions to. I have a goal that I don't know how to reach, and it gnaws at me like nothing has ever gnawed at me before.

I might as well just admit it. For the first time, _I don't know_.

There. I said it.

Whoever said admitting your fears makes you feel better, makes you a stronger person, was the stupidest person in the world. They were wrong. Straight-on dead wrong.

_I don't know._

Those three little words burn like hellfire. They sear like the beams that I used to shoot at delinquent reapers, in another time, another place, another world, where I _did_ know the answer to everything.

There is no one around me on this empty desolate bridge to WildKat Café. No one to judge me, no one to see me. Not that I care about my reputation anyway. I'm above such petty mortal concerns. Or so I tell myself.

Even so, there's something tantalizingly open about being alone. So I just stand there for a moment, and let the cool wind wash over me. I lean against the metal railings, clenching and unclenching my fists, grasping at the intangible control that I had not realized I had missed, and letting the gentle breeze tease the tension out of me.

_Didn't that feel better Josh? Yeah, that's right, let it all out._

_What did we say about admitting things? That proverbial person was wrong remember? Wrong!_

I realize that I've let my control slip a little too far when I start hearing warring voices in my head.

_Enough. Time to move on._

The afternoon sun is inching down towards the horizon now, its multi-colored rays sending flecks of rainbow into the air. It reflects on the dark river below, painting strokes of iridescent green, yellow, and purple in the water's murky depths.

The real world is a beautiful place, with subtle breathtaking moments that have been filtered from the UG's view. I manage to catch myself, and tear my gaze away before I lose myself in its hypnotic power.

_You have a destination remember? WildKat Café._

_Oh right._

It was Mr. H who posed as my legal guardian, and helped me fill out the paperwork to enroll me in the local high school. And it was Mr. H who unquestioningly nodded at every single one of my demands with that kind brown eye, and complied, with unwavering tolerance that I never showed him. It was Mr. H who offered me a place to live while I undertook this "spiritual journey" (his words, not mine), and gave me a place to call home. I don't understand this man either, but unlike Neku, I've _never_ completely understood Mr H, so it doesn't bother me much.

I push open the door without really seeing anything. The walk home, and my little stop by the bridge, has left me in a surprisingly good mood despite everything. Taking a deep breath of the rich coffee-scent that wafts over from the counter, I stride over to a rather unattractive table by a windowless corner. It's become _my_ table in my one-day stay here, and there's something so mysterious about _belonging_, that despite the table's tattered edges and dented surface, I've claimed it as my own. Mr H doesn't mind. He doesn't mind anything.

"I'm baaack." I call out half-mockingly, half-genuinely-cheerful, as my bag skitters off the table and onto the ground on the other side.

Silence greets my over-enthusiastic remark, and that gnawing in my stomach starts again.

"Turn around Josh," Mr H's chipper disembodied voice floats over from behind the counter.

_What_?

I turn. Blue, orange, and white assail my eyes.

There's a split second where my brain hangs between realization and blissful ignorance. It's like running down a hill, propelled by the force of gravity, and knowing you can't stop. As much as I try to avoid it, the realization comes anyway.

Neku.

_Fuck._

Vaguely, I register Mr. H smiling serenely to himself behind his protective counter. Then, my eyes snap back to Neku's startled eyes – clear overwhelming blue, with all the blankness of a cloudless sky – and we resume our unexpected staring contest.

This, I can win. I've always been superb at staring people down.

But as Neku's vulnerable face again starts to crumble under my sharp gaze, I feel that familiar knot turning in my stomach.

"Why'd you lie to me Josh?" I can see the cracks forming in his composure. Victory will be mine in a few moments, but for some reason, I'm not cheering.

I shrug elegantly, complete with the smooth hair-flick I've perfected over time. "Maybe because I didn't want you to find me?" Duh.

Hurt flashes across his face. Neku's an open book, and as hard as he tries to hide it, I can see right through him. He flinches, and his fingers clench against the smooth tabletop.

Maybe the kid didn't deserve _that_.

My stomach knots violently, traitorous organ that it is, betraying my cool facade. Is this what guilt feels like? I don't like it.

"Oh." His voice warbles like a mewling helpless kitten. His gaze flickers to Mr H, and my own eyes follow. Mr. H nods at Neku, his head tilting so slightly that I'm not sure if I've imagined it, and something sparks between them. Knowledge, friendship, understanding. It. I don't understand it, and the red-hot jealousy blazes through my blood again. _My goodness, when will this ever end?_

The silence draws on between the two of them, between the three of us, taunt and tense. The dots are connecting even as time seems to freeze over.

"Mr H. You set this up didn't you?" I ask. My voice is blunt and clumsy as it skitters and shatters the delicate silence that has frosted.

Mr. H smiles enigmatically. "You needed this."

"No I don't."

Anger. Red hot scorching anger. My head throbs unsteadily with this new emotion. My hard-won control has slipped completely away by now, even as I consider, with a detached mind, that a fuzzy wobbling rose-hued world has its violent beauty too.

"I don't need a damn pity fest, thank you very much."

Neku's taken my cool, fisted it around his fingers like a string winds around the spool of a kite. I want it back.

"Shiki told me you were back, and I figured you'd probably be here." He blinks over me commandingly, and I marvel again at how he's garnered something I can't have.

"Mr. H said you wanted friends right?" I shoot a death glare at the offending person, but the coffee brewer has already sauntered away. _Jerk_. It sounds so pathetic, the way Neku said it, the way Mr. H presented it. I resented that, even as a part of me wants to grovel and nod so Neku can kiss my scrapes and make everything better. _Stop Josh. Just_ stop _thinking_.

"It's okay Josh. I can totally relate."

"Didn't you hear me the first time?" I can still pull off my frosty scornful attitude; it's the only thing that's gone right today. "I don't need your damn pity and your petty fake offerings."

This is ridiculous. Whatever I envisioned when I imagined that missing puzzle piece, it definitely was not _this_.

I don't need help. Neku might need little girls help him, but I am Yoshiya Kiryu. No way in Hell does Yoshiya Kiryu hang out with his former victims. _Even if he has no other friends._

"Well. If you're ever feeling lonely, we're usually by the Hachiko statue after school, at least for a while, before we decide what to do. Meet us there tomorrow… if you feel like it."

A muscle twitches on Neku's cheek. He turns, waves at Mr. H, and leaves, the door slamming shut with a bang behind him. I watch him walk until he disappears, until Mr. H starts snickering uncontrollably, and I realize that Neku was hiding a smile all along.

_Ugh. _Nothing is going right. Nothing at all.

* * *

Math finds me stealing glances at Shiki and Rhyme, giggling in a corner over some doodle on a paper.

_Idiots_. I've watched them for ten minutes, and all they've done is giggle. It's disgusting. How does Neku stand them? How do they stand each other? How do they stand Neku? This whole cycle is making my head hurt.

And somehow, when the teacher calls on Rhyme to answer the impossibly hard warm-up problem that even I had trouble doing, the girl actually grins, hops up and solves it correctly. _Inconceivable_.

Maybe there's a reason why she's in this class after all, despite the fact that she seems like she should still be in middle school.

And even as she goes back her stupid girlish banter, I find that I can't look down upon her the same way as I did before. Her ability to solve math problems has somehow elevated her status up a little in my mind. Funny how that works.

Shiki now… is another story. I would despise her if she were worth my time, but she's not, and that's just that.

* * *

As my feet pull me towards the famous statue of Hachiko, I wonder for the umpteenth time what the hell I'm thinking.

Obviously, I'm _not_ welcome in their cozy little group. Despite Rhyme's reassurances that I wasn't hated, despite oh-mighty-leader-Neku's open invitation that everyone would bow down to, I'm pretty sure they're not going hail me as a blessed addition to their lives.

So really. What am I doing, intruding on this merry picture-perfect group of friends? What can I add other than spite, bitterness, and memories of the reaper's game that they've worked so hard to erase from their minds? Nothing really.

But I have nothing else to do.

And Neku _did_ invite me, so I guess that makes everything okay. He'd be disappointed if I didn't come.

Rhyme sees me first, grins a little, and waves me over. I wave back, just for the heck of it. I can't let down a little girl, after all.

Next is Neku, who greets me with a slight nod, and the slightest shadow of an amused smile.

So far so good.

Shiki and Beat, following the glances of the other two, see me next, just as I approach the fountain. Shiki scowls. Beat looks confused for a moment before realization dawns, and he frowns.

"Hi Josh!" Rhyme breaks the silence that Neku is unwilling to face, that Shiki and Beat are unable to face. Her genuine smiling face, juxtaposed with the downcast, almost guilty expressions of the others, startles even me.

A puzzle piece clicks into an empty slot. _This is friendship._

"Hi Rhyme." I make a sad attempt to be casual when Beat and Shiki are ready to murder me. Neku is torn between his close friends, and the person who killed him. Considering the options, I'm baffled and touched that he even pauses to think at all.

It occurs to me that Neku is only human, and didn't foresee this unfortunate reaction. It also occurs to me that perhaps forcing myself upon them might ruin strain and ruin everything. And lastly, it occurs to me that if he was kind enough to make an effort and invite me, then I might as well make an effort to be kind, and leave this fragile group in peace, despite the sick satisfaction it would give me to ruin their ignorant bliss.

"Wochoo doin' here, intruser?"

I cringe at Beat's blatant disregard for the English language, and fight to urge to fire back the dozens of snarky insults that hover and threaten to burst on the tip of my tongue. Rhyme and Neku are watching after all.

For them, I'm actually willing to sacrifice some of my endless pride. Only for them.

"Nothing." I smile impulsively. "Just stopping by. See ya."

"See ya!" Rhyme chirps, as if she's actually sorry to see me go. If it were anyone else, I'd laugh at their sad attempt to make me feel normal. But this is Rhyme, and because she's genuine, all else is forgiven.

A few steps later, Neku finally overcomes his dilemma.

"Later Josh." He calls out. _He said later, not bye_.

Shiki and Beat are silent, but it doesn't bother me for now. I've found people who matter, if only a little. I've found people worth cracking open, worth exploring, and another piece of the mysterious puzzle falls into place again.

I've found something intangible, that I can't even begin to grasp, that leaves a foolish smile on my face as I stroll back to WildKat café. It's not like I've suddenly uncovered the secret to life. It's not like any of my worries are actually over. I've just found _something_. A crack to hold onto, a beginning to start with.

It's all I need for now.


	4. crescendo

_**

* * *

**_

_**crescendo**__; gradual, steady increase in loudness or force_

* * *

The morning fog drapes itself across the land like a mantle. It clings to the edges of buildings, hides in the shadows from the rising sun, like a ghost that is afraid of disappearing. In this strange borderland between night and day, I find myself most at ease.

Its ambiguity speaks to me. The sun, hidden from sight, illuminates half of the horizon. And yet, on the other side of the sky, stars still twinkle dimly, stubbornly defying the imminent arrival of day.

I left the UG of Shibuya to see from the perspective of light, and yet I find myself being drawn strangely back to darkness. It's as ironic as it is frustrating.

Silence reigns in the air, almost as if is a sound in itself. The world is sleeping, but I am awake. It's too early for anyone else, and in the void of complete silence around me, I find solace.

The school is as empty and solemn as a graveyard. I can hear the thuds of my own footsteps colliding softly with the cement ground, and I relish its gentle tempo. It's the only sound in this silent hallway, and for a moment, I'm the ruler of my own world again.

A sudden commotion snaps me out of my peaceful reverie, loud voices echoing from the other side of the building. The echoes, shouts, and whimpers, are as familiar to me as the beat of my own footsteps. A fight has broken out.

It shouldn't be any of my business. It _isn't_ any of my business. By all rights, I should have walked straight past, but a whimper pierces through the general chaos, and my heart skips a beat.

_Rhyme_.

I poke my head carefully out, plastering my body against the cold smooth wall, and an unexpected scene unfolds before me.

I catch a flash of orange, a blur of black, as a tall boy swings a fist at Rhyme. She dodges, landing awkwardly on her ankle, and yelping as it gives way. A smug taunting smirk plays on the boy's face as he waits for her to recover – it's like a game of cat and mouse. Finally Rhyme clamors to her feet shakily, raises her head defiantly… only to have her feet swept out from under her by the boy's long legs.

She falls with a crash, and I wince. My knuckle has somehow found its way into my mouth, and as I bite down to stifle a gasp, I taste bitter metallic blood.

A breeze is playing with her wispy hair, and I feel as if I'm looking upon the corpse of a fallen angel. There's such innocence and vulnerability in that child-like face, that it almost hurts to look. I feel like I've witnessed a murder.

_Do something Josh._

She twists, displaying an startling trail of scrapes and bruises as she pushes herself up. For a minute, I catch a glimpse of those forgiving blue eyes as she turns to face her opponent again. Despite the fact that I'mhuddled behind a thick sturdy wall, snug against my fleece jacket, I've never felt more vulnerable.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, I inch away from the pair, two different parts of me warring and slowly ripping me apart.

_Save her_, cries an alien Josh that has blossomed within these past few days. _After all her kindness and sweet tolerance, you can't even save her from a skimpy school kid you know you could easily defeat? This is what friends are for. This is the reality you were looking for. You have a duty._

The old Josh sneers defiantly. _What are you? High? One look at a cute kid, and you start playing the selfless hero? Don't even bother going down that path. Haven't you interfered with enough lives?_

I stand there, watching the blood drip from my gnawed knuckles, wondering how I could have possibly gotten so worked up for a little girl, and knowing that the small crimson drops that trail down my fingers in no way resolves me of my crimes.

_Thud thud thud._ It's a sickening beat to the most disgusting music I've ever heard. I can't move, even as the sun rises and gilds the bone-white buildings. I can't move, after the sounds have long died away, and the babble of sleepy students fills the winter air. It's only when the bell rings, its shrill discordant chime a welcome relief to the echoes in my head, that I am jarred into motion again.

* * *

She's like a stupid puppy, I think to myself, staring at the deceptively innocent and whole Rhyme sitting across from me in math. I can see the bruises and scrapes behind those long sleeves and elegant scarf. I can see the darkness behind the glimmering eyes and the carefree smile.

The transparency of the moment strikes me so profoundly, I want to push away all of the knowledge that I've acquired this morning.

Stupid stupid girl. I didn't think friendship was supposed to be the twisting gnawing snake that writhes in my stomach. Had I known that caring would be this unpleasant, I wouldn't have bothered trying so hard.

She's still smiling, still grinning, the paragon of delight. It's like she's shoved any hidden angst she might have on me. I'm not supposed to worry about someone more than that person worries about himself or herself.

Perturbed, and sensing Shiki's wary glare, I lower my head to mathematical problems again.

Stupid Rhyme for making me worry about her. Stupid Shiki, for making me feel like I _shouldn't_ be able to worry about Rhyme. And stupid me, for being so concerned in general. Other people should never matter as much as I do.

* * *

"Josh?"

Rhyme. _Just leave me alone already._

"What?" I snap, one foot already out the math classroom, half way out of this terror.

She flinches, uncertainty –and was that fear?- pooling in her eyes. Shiki is frowning, furrowing her brow in silent anger, beside Rhyme. It occurs to me that I might have been a little bit too harsh. An awkward silence has frozen between the three of us. I suppose that a normal person would try to break it, but the silence as gotten to me as well, and I can't move.

Rhyme grins tentatively, the fragile warmth of her smile spreading and thawing over the frosty air. She's so desperate to mend my mistakes. She's so willing to pick up the pieces and smooth everything over, so eager to make everything all right again. I can't help but smile back, feeling, for a moment, almost touched.

"Are you hanging out with us today?" She's twiddling her thumbs, and her lashes are shuttered against her cheek, as if she's bracing herself for a retort, and hoping for an affirmation.

_No. Absolutely not. That would be awkward as hell, and your friends hate me anyway. _The words are on the tip of my tongue. Rhyme isn't looking –is she afraid?- so she doesn't see how I'm ready to expel the words that could possibly break her little heart (I flatter myself). She hasn't got a clue.

But Shiki sees. Shiki understands. I can see her face struggling, battling against two internal forces. Her face smoothens over as she reaches some sort of a conclusion, and opens her mouth. The alacrity of her words catches even me off guard.

"C'mon Josh." She smiles easily, some of the warmth actually spreading to her eyes. "Hang out with us. I promise I'll be nicer this time, and you'd make Neku happy too." _And Rhyme._

My gaze flits back to the Rhyme, whose gaze is determinedly fixed to the ground, whose small fists are clenched so hard that the bone shows, as if she is bracing herself against some devastating catastrophe. She really _actually_ cares. I don't understand why, but she cares.

_Oh what the hell_.

"Fine." I shrug, feigning indifference at the smile that bursts like fireworks across Rhyme's face.

"Good." Shiki's eyes follow the skipping Rhyme until the girl prances out of earshot. She starts after Rhyme slowly, and I follow her. I fall in to step beside Shiki, not because I particularly _want_ to talk to her, it seems like the natural thing to do. It'd be rude to purposely shun her, even by my standards. I assume Shiki feels the same way, and it's not until she opens her mouth again that I realize I've been manipulated all along.

"So Josh. Rhyme and Neku huh?" She asks bluntly. "You've actually somehow miraculously gained friends?"

There's no malice behind these words. Half-teasing, half-playful, this is just Shiki's way of conversation.

I shrug indifferently. "Perhaps."

"Just… just..." Shiki's fingers wind around her backpack, mangling the silken straps as she struggles for words.

"Quite honestly Josh, you have a knack for messing up everyone's life. All I'm asking is that you don't involve us in your little mind games this time." She fixes me with that piercing glare. "Are we clear?"

"I'm, quite frankly, very offended that you would ever think that." My long bangs choose this moment to fall into my face, and I'm no longer inclined to brush them away. Shiki's words, although they mean well, have struck a chord, unraveled my façade. I'd rather hide.

"I hope so." She casts me another withering look before speeding up her pace. We've reached our destination and as of now this conversation has adjourned. Rhyme perched on the edge of Beat's skateboard, is already immersed into an animated discussion with her brother. She rolls her eyes at us –took you long enough- smiles faintly, and turns back to Beat.

I turn to Shiki, and find that she is already engaged in an equally enthusiastic conversation Neku.

They don't mean to exclude. I'm sure they don't. I've never really wanted or felt the need for friends. But sitting here, _watching_, half included, half excluded, I admit to myself that I maybe a want a slice of their happiness too. Just a little.

Rhyme pats the skateboard beside her, noting my uncomfortable silence, and I wordlessly slip down on the uneven surface. The two conversations have meshed now, and the four of them are bantering happily. The noise and laughter baubles around me, and although I loathe lies with a deadly passion, I'm inclined, just for this moment, to pretend.

I'll pretend I'm one of _them_. I'm pretend they're one of _me_. I'll pretend that this pretending doesn't bother me. And I'll just pretend, for a moment, that I've gotten everything I've ever wanted.

"Josh is amazing at math." Rhyme exclaims enthusiastically, her arms flailing dramatically to emphasize, apparently, just _how_ spectacular I am. _Thanks Sho._

"Yeah…" Shiki adds rather uncharacteristically. "He solved a problem that stumped even Rhyme here."

Beat gapes at me in undisguised shock. "Dude man. Y'gotta teach me how to do maffamatics too." He mock scowls at Rhyme. "She always beats me at these things."

And Neku just smiles, eyes meeting mine. We share an understanding. _These are my friends. They've made the difference. Luckily for you, I'm willing to share._

"Sure Beat. Anytime." I smile hesitantly, and receive a splitting grin in return. A breeze blows through the air, and we all shift closer instinctively, huddling together for heat. For moment, I feel as if maybe I don't _need_ to pretend after all.


	5. accelerando

AN: Hey non-existent readers. I've been kind of busy for the last few weeks (and probably will continue to be busy) until the school year ends, so updates might not come as frequently as we'd all like them to. Ummm, yeah. Send PM's if you really want updates? I tend to forget about my stories until someone nags me about them. Haha.

* * *

_**accelerando**; gradual increase in speed_

* * *

I don't know if Rhyme makes it a personal habit of hers to get beat up every day before school starts, or if the incident last week was a one-time occasion. Truthfully, I don't really care to find out.

It's as if by not knowing, I remove all obligations. Sure I like the kid, but I'm not willing to jump in and risk my skin for her if she doesn't ask for help. And if she's been continuing her stupid near suicidal mission of getting killed every morning, well, that's her business. I haven't seen any new bruises yet.

For all my supposed nonchalance, I haven't worked up the nerve to arrive at school as early as I used to. The morning sun is high in the sky by the time I wake, and it burns me with its blinding rays. The stupid chatter of other students, the annoying honking of cars, and all the other sounds of the waking world make me want to hide behind earmuffs that I don't have. The coolness of dawn dangles tantalizingly before me like fish bait, but I turn the other cheek, for I'd rather suffer all the agonies of the world than _know_ and feel obliged.

So as the bell for school ends, I opt out of the merrily awkward social bonding session that Neku has yet again invited me to partake in. Instead, I make my way to a nearby park, and lean against an ancient oak, whose long arms shelter me from the incessant glare of the sun, and the prying eyes of curious schoolchildren. I need a break from trying to figure people out. It makes me think too hard.

It's rather unfortunate that all my efforts are in vain. Neku's group coincidentally decides to plan a picnic nearby, and Rhyme's hawk-eyes spot me before I can even think about running away.

"Josh!" Her distinctive orange sweater and cheerful smile stand out against the green foliage, and dull brown dirt. From all the way across the park, she's easily recognizable.

I lift my head and make eye contact. For people like Rhyme, a simple acknowledgment is enough. They don't feel offended if you don't say anything, because they'll talk enough to fill up all the spaces of silence in between, and more. It suits me.

She's already bouncing towards me and my distant little corner-near-the-wall, a three hundred megawatt smile grinning on her face, as if I've just made her day. In a week, the shy little girl has turned into a hyperactive rabbit-squirrel-like… thing. It's almost disturbing.

"Hi!" She beams brightly down at me, as if it's the most natural thing to approach a quasi-stranger who is busy pretending that he has friends.

_Umm, I like you, but not that much. Don't push it._

I give Rhyme my best withering-glare. She stops in her tracks, the smile slips off her face, and I cheer sadistically on the inside. It's one of those strange moments, where the future hangs on a fulcrum, and reality could tip either one way or another.

I'm about to tell her to run off and leave me alone when her sleeve slides down several inches. In the shadows of her forearm, I wonder if I see the outline of a bruise. My glare falters, and for a minute, just a single minute, I let my guard down.

A slight pause, a breath and a half of silence, blows between us, and I wither inwardly. Somewhere deep inside, I know I've already lost the opportunity to shoo her away. Perhaps I never had it in the first place.

"Hey." I echo back hollowly, and though I swear that this was the most perfectly dull and robotic "hey" that I have ever spoken, Rhyme doesn't catch the subliminal message. Rather, she takes my monosyllabic grunt as an invitation to fold herself gingerly beside me.

I stare. She shrugs back, smiling a bit. _This is not awkward at all. Please note the sarcasm._

"Rhyme… what are you doing?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Sitting with you so you won't look so depressed?"

That burns. I give her the famous scornfully-raised-eyebrow look. "I'm a little offended by that comment."

She laughs. It's a sweet bell-like sound, and I'm pleasantly surprised. It doesn't send me cringing like Konishi's flirtatious giggle did. I'm tempted to laugh _with_ her, but I'm also partially snubbed by the fact that she has the nerve _at_ me.

I settle for a half-hearted withering glare. She is again unaffected. I've come to expect that at this point. Dropping the mask, I sigh.

"Okay. I fail, but I have dignity. Now leave me to wallow in peace."

"No."

I'm not used to hearing that word. In fact, I don't remember the last time anyone refused anything I demanded.

"Excuse me?" I gape at her.

She smirks.

I roll my eyes. _Fine, be that way_. "Whatever."

A warm breeze blows between us, taking some of the edge of this strange silence that is neither awkward nor comfortable. It's like the silence right before someone is about to speak, suspenseful, and almost unsuspecting. No one speaks, and we totter on the edge of that imaginary cliff, until the crunch of footsteps heralds the presence of another person.

A small frown plays on the edge of Beat's face. It's obvious that he disapproves of his precious little sister coming anywhere near me, despite the way he tries to hide it.

"Beat!" Rhyme replies in an extremely enthusiastic, almost Shiki-esque squeal. I can't help but shudder.

Beat, likewise, cringes at this, and although I don't quite feel sorry from him we share an amused grin between us over Rhyme's small head. He jerks his head towards a distant picnic table, where Neku and Shiki are immersed in a rather intense game of slapjack.

"C'mon. Chill with us."

Shiki and Neku's game has regressed to slap-hands instead of slap-cards, and from the foolish smiles on their faces, they don't seem to mind. It's a simple gesture, oddly intimate, and the sparkle in Neku's eyes – he's found his happily ever after – rather repels me from the whole scene. Sitting here, with the tree at my back, the sweet spring wind on my cheeks, and the scene of disgustingly perfect friendship, love, and rainbow unicorns before my eyes, I can pretend. I know I'd just ruin this fantasy by jumping in anyway.

Rhyme has already gotten up, and the two siblings stare down at me with equally expectant expressions. I shake my head.

"Nah. I like it here." I pat the bark of the tree, feeling the rough ridges caress my fingers. "It's quite alright."

Beat shrugs at Rhyme, flabbergasted, and turns back towards the others. Rhyme however, surprises me by sitting back down by my side.

"I like it here too." She replies smugly.

Beat's eyes flash with anger.

"Rhyme! How many times have I told you? Don't ever-."

I try my best to fade into the background, but Beat notices me anyway, and cuts off right before some juicy detail appears. I haven't regressed to snooping around like the common gossiping girl yet, but in a world where I still don't understand where I stand, any information is gold, and any lost is tragic pity.

I attempt an innocent grin, but it's not enough to entice Beat, who whirls around and stomps off towards his friends, disgust written all over his face. It's not that I particularly care about Beat's opinion, but his rejection still stings. Why can't I connect with people. Just what exactly am I doing wrong?

"So uhhh… umm." Rhyme mutters in the wake of my stunned silence. "Yeah. Don't mind him. He doesn't really trust you that much."

_No shit Sherlock._

"That's quite alright. I don't have feelings you know." I deadpan.

Rhyme glowers at me, half pained, half exasperated, and I immediately feel bad for my insensitivity. _Damn Rhyme, why are you so sensitive? Why do I even care?_

"You shouldn't have feelings either." I make a clumsy attempt to take back words that have already flown beyond my grasp. "Don't take me so seriously Rhyme. You should know by now, this is just how I am."

She doesn't run. She doesn't vomit onto the grass. She doesn't even punch me. Instead, she just heaves a little world-weary sigh, and flops back against the tree a little more.

"You want friends, but you're so used to pushing everyone away that you don't know how to make friends. You want to talk to people, but every time you say something it comes out all wrong. And I right? Am I wrong? Help me out here Josh. I don't understand you."

It takes a while for me to digest this.

"No." I snap finally, because her speech is suspiciously close to "girl-talk". I don't want to talk about me. I don't want to bare my heart to a little girl. And I don't want to admit that I'm unsure of anything, especially not to Rhyme. Why didn't I just grab Neku and drag him off to have a manly concise spill-my-guts emofest?

Silence. I pride myself on being an extremely capable liar. I don't know why Rhyme is giving me that skeptical look. Heaven forbid she actually sees through my guise.

"Why is it so necessary that you understand me anyway? Do you make it a personal habit of yours to pry open the guts and thoughts of everyone you meet? Give a guy some privacy here."

She whirls on me. I've managed to incite the one person who I thought would never sink this low. Something in me secretly cheers at the fact that she isn't as perfect as she seems, something in me wants to goad her on to see just how far she can fall.

"Have you looked at yourself Josh?" She demands furiously. "You sit in a corner by yourself pretending to study. We all know you don't need to. Don't tell me you don't need friends. Don't tell me you don't want friends. Why else would you be here in our world?"

Of course she's hit everything dead on. However, I'm never going to acknowledge that she's right. I shrug indifferently.

"I want to help you, but you're not letting me. Part of making friends is opening up to people Josh. You have to learn how to trust people, include them in your world. It's a two-way street."

Ironic that the person I trust most in this world is lecturing me about my lack of trust.

Now she's turned into the coaxing nurse, trying to convince a rebellious child that the shot really won't hurt (of course, it always does).

"It's not as bad as it seems. I know you're afraid, but I promise everything will be okay."

I know, somewhere, somehow, that eventually I'll learn to trust again. I'm just not ready. Rhyme's words hit a locked door, bounce off the walls of my heart. I'm just not ready yet, and until then, I'll pretend that I don't need anything.

"Don't be silly. I'm not afraid of anything." I scowl at her, scooting several inches away. She's so close to breaking down my defenses. Once she gets in, there's no telling what she could do to my fragile state of mind.

"Josh…" Her hand reaches out and covers mine, preventing me from running away.

_WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!? _

I should be far far far away from this manipulative girl and her oddly charming ways, but my muscles are frozen, and I can't move. I can't even _think_ about moving them. I should be terrified. I've lost control of body, my thoughts, my everything. But the same haze that has frozen my thoughts has quelled my fear, and though my panic pulses right surface, it never quite breaks into reality.

Beat chooses this moment to make one of his inopportune entrances, and for once, I am thankful.

"Time to go home kiddo." Beat narrows his eyes suspiciously at us, but Rhyme, leaning back innocently, has already moved her hand away.

She smiles at me. "Bye Josh."

I guess it has become a universally accepted fact I don't talk back, because, without waiting for my reply, Beat turns and leaves. After a slightly awkward silence (which I am fully responsible for), Rhyme follows suit, and trots off.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him." Beat's disgruntled voice echoes from through the woods. He has no idea how loud he is.

"Don't worry about us alright?" Rhyme's voice is slightly softer, but she too underestimates my exceptionally sharp hearing.

"Dude. Are y'stupid? He kills people." Beat is incredulous.

"He won't hurt me…" Rhyme responds confidently.

And the two move on, their conversation fading out of my hearing range.

I'm annoyed that Rhyme would so easily throw compliments around like this. I'm shocked that she's so confident and trusting of my goodwill. And I'm just a bit (quite incredibly actually) touched that she would defend the person she just yelled a few minutes ago, against a brother she's known all her life.

I'm left with this strange clenching feeling in my chest, as if I've forgotten how to breathe. It's dark when I finally make my way back to Mr. H.'s café, and despite all my musing, I'm still not sure at all what to think. All is a jumble, and all is chaos, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to pull the string, and let the truth unravel.


	6. caesura

AN: Mmm. I don't know if I should write any chapters in Rhyme POV. It seems fun, but then again, I don't know. Switching between POVs seems kind of like cheating; because then I just say everything I want instead of practicing to insert them between the lines. First person is already shallow enough anyway. **I would like your opinion** on this dear reader, so if you would please give it, that would be really helpful and I would love you forever. Thanks. (:

* * *

_**caesura **; pause_

* * *

I'm sitting by that bleached white wall again, listening to the blissful sound of morning silence. I'm waiting, waiting for the same tell-tale noises that greeted me last time. I'm waiting for Rhyme.

_Dude are y'stupid? _Beat's voice from the previous day echoes in my head, and for once, I agree. On a scale of common sense, this ranks in the as-stupid-as-Beat category. I've given up on trying to be reasonable though, because _nothing_ in this oh-so-real-and-solid world makes sense, and I might as well just go with the flow.

I've spread my physics papers before me, testing an equation that possibly predicts the air resistance on ethereal beings (Sho would be proud of me), but I can't concentrate. I'm waiting and waiting for what seems like it will never come until-

Until it starts.

I square my shoulders against the stark-white wall. It's a blank canvas, pure and untainted, but I can only imagine what's staining purity on the other side. I haven't dared look yet.

I don't usually play Mr. Knight-in-Shinning-Armor. I don't pretend to be what I'm not. However, this is Rhyme, and of all people in the UG (except perhaps Mr. H), I owe her the most. Besides, some irrational part of me thinks that I'll some how be able to make up for the follies of yesterday with the acts of today. _Dream on_.

I turn the corner.

A tall boy pins Rhyme against the wall, his hands secured tightly around her wrists.

"What now huh Rhyme? What now?" He whispers softly, almost teasingly. He smiles, and it's genuinely amused. Rhyme's small mouth furrows, but she isn't as petrified as she should be.

Whirling, she breaks one arm free, draws back her fist, and socks the offender neatly in the chest. It makes a satisfying thud, but she's just one puny girl, and really, she doesn't stand a chance.

"Nice try." An arm wraps around her neck, completely immobilizing her entire body. She whimpers in defeat, and even I can't help feeling sorry for the poor girl. _She's so screwed._

"Hey, leave her alone." It seemed like a logical thing to say, considering the circumstances. It's only after he turns and faces me that I remember it's probably not a good idea to start shooting beams of white light in this world. _Oops?_

He opens his mouth… and laughs at me. Strange that he isn't cowering in shame or fear yet. Rhyme leans back with a little amused grin on her face, as if she's watching some insanely funny comedy. She should be petrified in the face of my wrath, or extremely relieved that help is here. There's something fishy about this whole situation.

Still, no one laughs at me unless I let them.

_You buffoon._ It's instinctive. Before my mind has even reacted, my body has already moved. I slip into the familiar stance, raise my hands, and let my emotions overtake me. He should be lucky I've only meant to stun, and not to seriously injure or kill.

As if the air is made of molasses, the ray of incandescence oozes through the air. I smile, certain beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my beam will hit its target, who will be dutifully rewarded for his sins. The light creeps through the air, molecule by molecule, spreading oh-so-slowly, yet infinitesimally quickly, as it reaches for its target.

"Josh!"

There's a scream of horror (Rhyme), as the beautiful light reaches its target. The next few moments are incredibly cliché, as if some invisible hand has choreographed this film of life.

Rhyme launches herself at the boy, knocking him out of the way, just nanometers before the light hits him. The boy lands with a thud on the ground, relatively unharmed, and the light – only meant to stun, I remind myself – flashes and silhouettes Rhyme's small body.

She screams for the second time. The light fades, but Rhyme's pain doesn't. It leaves her writhing on the ground, tears-streaked, and completely helpless, for a several long moments before she finally pulls herself together. As she struggles to pull herself together, I can feel something tangible inside me breaking.

It's like dumping toxic waste on nature or imprinting dirty thoughts on a small child. It's the complete and utter destruction of innocence that shocks me to my very core, and leaves me, for once in my life, completely numb and incoherent.

"Fuck!" I don't believe this. I can't believe this. _No no no no no_…

"Rhyme, are you okay?" I ask, because it's what everyone says after someone gets hurt. I don't deserve a response.

The boy reaches for Rhyme, his hand slipping into hers, and I see the way they tighten on each other in the face of unknown evil (me).

"What are you? A monster?" He looks at me, black eyes wide with fear.

I don't answer his question. It blows my mind to think about such a simple concept. I turn away, fix my gaze on the shadows in the corner, and feel, despite the gathering crowd, very very alone.

"I don't know. You tell me."

Rhyme moves. I see her out of the corner of my eye, but I can't look at her. She's wiped away the tears, the evidence, every that reminds me of my horrible crime. For some reason, that makes it worse. She looks like an angel again, and I have fallen oh-so-far. _Coward_.

"Josh…" Her voice wavers uncertainly.

"Sorry." But since when was 'sorry' ever enough for anything?

I'm saved by the bell, the marvelously incessantly annoying bell that for once, rings when I want it to. The people-sea swarms around us. We let ourselves catch and melt into the endless crowd, heading our opposite ways as the sun finally peaks over the drab buildings and brings light to this dark shadow-filled world.

* * *

"Rhyme. We need to talk."

I manage to catch her before the end of school. Now I'm the one chasing, begging, pleading. It feels weird. It feels wrong.

"Yeah. Okay. Whatever Josh."

At least she's not running away from me. At least she's not readying herself to punch my guts out. At least we're getting somewhere… I think.

"About this morning…"

There's no reply. Where did that bubbly savior who eagerly jumped in to fill all the awkward pauses go? Where did that unwavering faith that believed in me when I didn't believe in myself run off to? Where did everything that I had going for me when I didn't appreciate it disappear now that I need it most?

"About this morning…" How could something I planned out so painstakingly, that had everything perfected down to the last disdainful glare, become crushed so badly?

She finally looks up voice dripping with exasperation. "What about it Josh?"

I'm beginning to understand how she feels, talking to the immovable statue that never talks back. Now our roles are reversed, and though I wish it weren't so, I can't help but think that I deserved this a thousand times over.

"Sorry. I know this sounds cliché, but it wasn't what it seemed. I wasn't trying to hurt you."

I have to check to make sure she's still there, despite the sound of her light footsteps in tandem with mine, pattering and echoing in the now-empty halls.

"I heard noises. I thought you were being bullied. It sure looked like it. I-I thought you were being harassed or something, and I jumped to conclusions. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay… I'm sorry."

And it would have worked out fine if you didn't have to play the hero and jump into the scathing beam of light. Honestly. Not smart.

She looks up at last, and smiles flippantly.

"So it never occurred to you that I would be able to take care of myself huh Josh? It never occurred to you that little Rhyme doesn't always need rescuing?"

Her words are like lashes on an already festering wound. _Damn it, I already said I was sorry. What else do you want of me?_

"It never occurred to you that little Rhyme might not be so happy with her pathetic weakness. It never occurred to you that she might have asked a friend to teach her self defense so she would actually be able to look out for herself instead of waiting on someone to save her?"

She stops walking, and I see now that she's crying. _Really_ crying. _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry._

"Did you see his face? I don't think Sota would dare even talk to me after this. Funny thing Josh, I thought you were smarter than this. Maybe if you had just waited a few seconds more, you would have been able to see that I wasn't in any real danger."

"Funny thing Rhyme." I shoot back impulsively. "You have no idea how long and hard and I thought before doing what I did." Empty defenses. No excuse in the world can possibly make up for what I've done. I don't know why I even bother, why I even care.

"I don't understand you Josh." She slides down against the wall, looking awfully vulnerable with her arms wrapped around her skinny legs. "You say you want to make friends, and then you push everyone away. You reject everyone's help, and then you try to rush in helping people who don't need it. What do you want?"

I sit down beside her, stretch my legs out on the endless asphalt, and muse.

"I don't know. I don't know anything Rhyme, except I want to start over. Is that okay?"

She sighs, a small worn sigh with so many holes that the breeze might as well snatch it up and rend it into bits of fluff. She sighs like someone whose life is being torn apart, a sigh much too old and world-weary for a young teenage girl.

"Beat warned me something like this would happen. That if I hung around you, then bad things would happen to me…"

I hang my head. "It's true."

She shifts closer, a small helpless child in a big scary world, and all I want to do is shield her with all my powers from the horrors of the world. Last time I tried though, that didn't work out too well.

"I believe you're good inside Josh. It's okay." She looks at me, eyes red from crying, crusted with tear-salt, and shimmering with unwavering faith. I've never seen anything more beautiful.

"Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day." She quotes.

I can't say anything top this, so I settle for something on the other spectrum of the literary scale.

"I could teach you how to fight if you really need to. But I'll be looking out for you from now on, so hopefully you won't need it."

She smiles a little, some of the darkness lifting from her eyes.

"Yeah. That would be nice. Thanks Josh."

"Anytime."

I take in the scene before me, from her eyelids (raw from tears) to her dusty cheeks (stained with tear-trails). I take in everything, from the scrapes on her knees, to the ragged edges of her tattered sleeve. I could stare at her all day, trying to unlock the mysteries of this enigma. I could look all day, and never see beyond the superficiality of the naked eye. I want to kiss her.

Finally, she meets my gaze. The corner of her mouth curves up in amusement.

"Can I help you Joshua?"

Dust motes dance around her head. She's their fairy queen. I want…. I must be crazy. I want to kiss her.

"It's okay, I can help myself."

I kiss her before fears and doubts can pull me back.

The dust motes melt and disappear between our lips. When I reach up to cup her cheek, salt crystals crumble to the ground. There are no fireworks, no starbursts of rainbows, or electric shocks, but the small fact that she reciprocates my mashing of lips, is magic enough for me.


	7. legato

* * *

_**legato**; smoothly, in a connected manner_

* * *

I wanted to kiss her. I _did _kiss her. I _still_ want to kiss her.

_Not a good sign at all._

The thought of bodily fluids mixing, swirling together in a common cavity, lip to lip, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue, now that I think about it, makes me suddenly nauseous. I can't believe I just succumbed to the urges of teenage hormones. I thought that kind of thing was reserved for lower life forms.

I resist the urge to wipe my mouth (I wouldn't want to hurt Rhyme's feelings would I?).

"Ummm…"

Rhyme fiddles with her fingers, obviously flustered. It's nice when people can't keep their mouths shut. It saves me the trouble of having to break the awkward silence.

"What was that for?" She finally bursts out.

I feel a balloon expanding in my chest, contracting my lungs and making it hard to breathe or think. _I don't really know. Why don't you tell me?_

"A mistake."

Something unreadable flickers in Rhyme's eyes. Disgust? Relief? I can't tell. I can't read her emotions the way I do other peoples'.

"I'm sorry." I'm beginning to hate that phrase with a terrible passion. It's all I'm ever able to say, and it doesn't quite seem to ever be enough.

"Don't be sorry Josh." Her expression is carefully blank as she slings her backpack over her shoulder and stands up. "Sorry is a useless word."

She looks at me with that indecipherable expression, and I realize I care about what she thinks of me. I actually _care_ what someone else thinks of me. I must be going delusional.

"If you tell Beat about this, we're all kind of dead. You, me, and Sota. So keep try not to bring it up alright?"

If anything, I can do this. I grin, suddenly confident. "Yeah. Okay, it'll be our little secret."

She gives me a timid smile, then turns and disappears around the corner. I resist the urge to watch her go. I can't look anymore.

I can't care this much. It's too dangerous for my delicate balance of mind. I feel like I'm tottering at the edge of a metaphorical cliff, wind-milling my arms to keep my feet on solid ground. I can't help but wonder, for a fleeting moment, what it feels like to let go and fall.

I've always wondered failure felt like.

* * *

I let the door of Wildkat Cafe slam shut with a bang, causing Mr. H to look up from his position behind the counter with a bemused knowing smile.

"Ahhh Josh. How was your day?" He inquires.

He sounds like an ancient philosopher. As absurd as it sounds, there's this unidentifiable quality to this man's voice that just immediately soothes and calms me. The fragrant scent of coffee in the air certainly doesn't hurt.

"Horrible."

I can let my guard down around Mr. H. He won't take advantage of my vulnerability.

"This place makes me do weird things."

His brow shoots up in astonishment.

"Oh really?"

I glance around the shop. A single middle-aged man gives me a suspicious stare, and I glare back at him until he drops his gaze. It's been a while since anyone's tried to kill me, and in this world, I shouldn't flatter myself into thinking I'm that important. Still, old habits die hard, and my brain leaps wildly at the notion that this man might somehow tattle my non-existent school life to the rest of the world.

"Yeah umm... I'll tell you about it later."

He stares at me, baffled.

"You mean you actually have things to talk about today?" He smirks happily at me. His enthusiasm and intense interest in my personal life is, though slightly creepy, a bit touching.

_Yes_. "Of course not."

Sarcasm is the only weapon I have left in this world.

"Not really eh?"

The door slams as the last customer of the day finishes his coffee and leaves. In his wake, a stream of crisp autumn leaves, swept up by the disturbance, plaster themselves against the glass door. They're on the outside looking in, and I'm on the inside looking out. Suddenly, Wildkat Cafe feels much safer, warmer, and intimate.

"I think I'm going out of my mind." I admit.

This elicits no gasps of horror, or shrill shrieks of doom. I knew I could trust Mr. H. If anything, Mr. H seems secretly overjoyed by this confession. The tips of his mouth twist up in a smirk, and I open my mouth to let the words out before I lose my nerve.

"Today I broke up what I thought was a fight. It turns out that someone was just training the other person for self-defense... and then we had a nice talk where we yelled and each other for a while. And then I kissed this girl... and I think I completely freaked her out..."

Mr. H's eyes light up like a schoolboy looking for gossip when I articulate my last sentence. I plow on with the rest of my spiel before he can ask any awkward questions.

"I don't understand. Ever since I've come here, it's like, it's like I haven't been in control of myself. I do weird things that are completely ludicrous and reckless. It's like I've lost all ability to think rationally."

I wait for the thud of a body, collapsed from shock. I wait for a sympathetic pat on the back or a hopeless shake of the head. I wait for a drastically negative reaction, but instead Mr. H beams gleefully at me.

"Congratulations Joshua. I think you've finally become a normal teenager."

I nearly spit out my coffee in shock. _That's appalling._

"You don't understand. I kissed Rhyme. RHYME! She's the sister of the friend of the guy I tried to kill. And I've only really known her for about a month."

He snorts.

"Well of course. You've been sexually repressed your entire life."

"Hey." I protest vehemently. "That was completely uncalled for."

A dirty rag is tossed in my direction, in response. I stare at it, baffled.

"What?"

"I'm your therapist oh lost wayward youth. In return for my services, you get to clean my counters and tables for me."

It feels like every shred of dignity that I have left has been ripped apart. Ironically, I've also never felt more complete.

With a long-suffering sigh, I pick up the dripping cloth, and wring the water out, and begin to scrub.

"You suck." I complain rather childishly.

"I know." He sticks his tongue out, completely trumping my statement with his own immaturity.

I can't help but smile. Moving from table to table, I wipe away stains, spills, and dust of the day's toil. As my task progresses, and the glossy surface starts to show its true colors, I see my own reflection peering out at me. A disheveled Josh grins back at me; a Josh with lightly ruffled hair, a streak of dirt on his cheek, and lips that though serious, hint at a true grin behind the surface.

It's disgusting. It's barbaric. The old Josh would have never allowed himself to regress to such a state. I don't think I really care anymore though.

I toss the rag back into the sink and survey my work. A colony of tables glitters proudly back at me. I feel cleaned in more ways than one.

And I can't help but smile.


	8. finale

* * *

_**finale**; the concluding part_

* * *

When relationships waver, I turn my head the other way. When they start to crumble, I step away. I'm not like Mr. H, I'm not like Shiki, and I'm definitely not like Rhyme. It's not in my nature to pursue the futile. I let the nature take its course.

So when Rhyme starts ducking her head awkwardly every time she walks past me in math, I twirl my pen nonchalantly and avert my eyes. When she stumbles near me, I pretend not to notice. I think part of her secretly wants me to say something, catch her as she falls, but I don't. The ball, Mr. H tells me, is in my court. I kissed her, and now it's time for me to make a move if I want to stop this stupid childish dance. But I don't. I simply sit on the sidelines while we both wither painfully, and let the situation simmer, because that's the type of people we both are.

Yet life is moving on. I've joined the school orchestra, and realized music of the physical world is just as beautiful as the music of the ethereal world. Occasionally, Neku and Beat join me, Neku tapping along with his drums, and Beat dancing to the rhythm of our melody. I've made also friends with the physics teacher his gang of physics-loving nerds. They teach me about the physical workings of this world. I tell them about the strange physics of the UG in return. Though I'm quite sure if they believe me, we're trying to work out formulas that bridge the gap between the two worlds. Life is moving on, and half way through walking back to Mr. H's café, I've realized that I've settled into a routine that is, if not amazingly exciting, at least modestly interesting, and tolerably enjoyable.

There are no backs to watch in this world. No life-threatening plots to carry out in this world I am challenged but not overwhelmed. I am stressed, but not broken. I gradually settle into the lulling pulse of what it must feel like to be "normal", and find that it's not all as disappointing as I once made it out to be.

I've managed to put Rhyme and her strange aversion out of my mind (though often I find myself wondering what could-have-been). I am perfectly okay, perfectly satisfied, perfectly fine – no, more than that – I am _happy_ until one day Beat slings a casual arm over my shoulder and invites me an event that completely shatters my illusion of peace.

"Yo, i's Rhyme's birthday this Saturday and we're throwing a party for her because she ain't the kind to let us throw one for her."

I nod nonchalantly. "Mmhmm, have fun."

"Yer invited man."

I freeze and hide an involuntary shudder. Seeing Rhyme. Being forced to interact with Rhyme. It breaks the perfect flow of a life that I have not yet managed to conquer. Life is okay – more than okay – right now, and this is intrusion is simply something that I am unwilling to deal with.

"Well. I don't really know Rhyme that well…"

"S'okay!" Beat croons enthusiastically. "You can _get_ to know her! No presents needed. We jus' gonna chill."

"Beat. Seriously." I fidget with my pockets. "She doesn't want me there."

Beat snorts. "Of course she does." He waves his skateboard around as if to make a point. "You saved her life."

I almost choke on the suddenly-suffocating air. "What!?"

Beat eyes me curiously. "Y'know? Beating up that bully for her?"

_What bully? _Before I can set the record straight, Beat is already talking again, spilling his heart and drenching me with secrets that I don't necessarily want to know.

"That day Rhyme came home all bruised up and bloodied, I wanted to die. She told me that a bully had came to her. But then you came and saved her. If you hadn't been there… if you… I don't want to think about that."

Beat's sincere trusting eyes lock with mine.

"Josh. I only owe you everything for being there for Rhyme when I wasn't. You _have_ to come. For me… and Rhyme."

The pieces of the truth fall together sideways and crooked, a lie that has become a reality without my knowing. I feel a sudden surge of anger at Rhyme for dragging me into her tangled web, for her lies, no matter how good-intentioned; have once again spun the tantalizing scent of control out of my grasp. How dare she destroy the fragile peace that I worked so hard to create?

And then there's Beat. Crude simple yet achingly honest Beat who has, with his simple words, rendered me incapable of speech, breathing, and thought. Poor simple Beat who's universe I can upturn with a single painful truth. Even as I stand, as careless and emotionless as ever, I realize that I've passed the point of going back. I've let myself feel for another being, and nothing is ever going to be the same.

"Fine."

Beat's face splits into a blissful grin.  
"Oh Josh." He claps me cheerily on the back. "I knew y'wuddn't let me down."

He strolls off whistling tunelessly, without a care in the world. I feel like the weight of the entire world has fallen down on me. _If only, Beat, if only you knew. Oh how very disappointed in me you would be. And for some reason, I actually care what you think.  
_

* * *

Soap studs and water fly in the air as I work my way furiously through the endless stack of cups and plates in the sink of WildKat Café. No stain is untouched, no streaks are left unscrubbed, and when finally the filth is removed from all the plates, I stack all the cups and plates in neat piles and lower them gently into the drawer. I can see my reflection gleaming out – dozens upon dozens of tiny Josh heads – and I smile. No detail is left undone, and that's the way I like it.

Mr. H eyes my work appreciatively as he strolls in, whistling happily. "Something on your mind Josh?" He asks smugly.

I grimace. Denial is pointless in with this man.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

Mr. H snorts so zealously that a few drops of coffee from his mug splash onto the floor. As if the answer should be obvious. With his other hand, he points a knowing finger at me.  
"You."

"What?" I protest futilely, as I grab a rag from the counter and begin mopping up the spill.

"I've never seen you wash dishes so enthusiastically. Something _must_ be up."

I scowl up at him. "What are you talking about? I always wash the dishes like this." I go back to wiping the stain. _Wipe wipe wipe_.

"… and wiping the floor so enthusiastically too…" Mr. H smirks as I stop in mid-swipe.

Defeated, I give the floor a final polishing, stand up, and toss the dirty rag into the sink.

"Whatever."

A dark eyebrow goes up. "Confiding in others isn't a sign of weakness. You don't have to keep everything to yourself Josh." Mr. H coaxes me gently.

It reminds me of something Rhyme would say.

"Beat somehow talked me into going to Rhyme's birthday party." I admit. Once the words start coming, they don't stop.

"Beat is under the impression that I saved Rhyme from this horrible villain. He thinks I saved her. Actually, I accidentally blasted her, and I guess Rhyme's too cute and nice to tell the truth. And they're not stupid, so I have no doubt they'll find out eventually. Besides, I don't want to continue a lie like this. They don't deserve it."

Mr. H squeezes my shoulder comfortingly. "All hell may break loose tomorrow… but you'll be glad it happened in the end "All hell may break loose tomorrow… but you'll be glad it happened in the end."

"What doesn't kill you will make you stronger!" My wise mentor finishes cheerfully. And he walks away, leaving me to the most nebulous future I have ever seen. This unsettles me so much that I almost remember what fear is like again.

* * *

Rhyme's party, actually, goes better than planned. It's so easy to ignore someone when there are more than two people. It's easy to nod civilly at her… and slide right past. It's easy when Neku's there, and we can just sit in silence together because that's the way we are. It's easy when Beat's there, flipping around on his skateboard, and all you have to do is watch. And it's easy when Shiki's there, and she does all the talking for anyone who can't.

It's after everyone disperses that I found myself falling into the trap that I've been dreading. Shiki and Neku make their excuses and head off together. Beat casts a knowing glance in both our directions, and subtly excuses himself by skating off to the other side of the park. And Rhyme just turns her cornflower button eyes towards me – deep wells I cannot see through – and enunciates those dreaded words.

"We need to talk."

"Okay." At this point, I am resigned. I just want to get this over with. I just want to be free again.

The silence that ghosts between us is like a third person in our conversation. It inserts itself between every breath we take, every word we speak, everything we do. Neither of us knows how to begin this, and in this way, we are similar.

"You lied to Beat." I begin. I've never been good at preambles or transitions.

She winces at my accusing tone, but it's hard to feel bad at her when the anger starts to rise like a newborn volcano.

"I don't want to cover up my mistakes anymore. Do you understand what you did when you told him I was a saint? You made me out to be someone that I wasn't."

I draw in a deep breath, and the words tumble out of me like giggles roll out of Shiki. Uncontrollable. I hadn't planned on saying this much.

"Yes I want to eventually not beat people up. Yes it would be nice if I could be good enough to save people, but you can't fake these things. I don't need you to help me lie. And frankly, it scares me that you've painted me as some kind of hero, because that's not what I need the world to see me as. If I'm ever going to be anything to this world, it'll be what I really am, not some hologram of lies."

She winces. "Do you know the feeling Josh? When you try so hard to make everything okay, and no matter what you do, something's going to go wrong. When you thought you finally balanced everything, did the right thing, and tomorrow you're back to square one again?"

Her words stay the vicious flow of my anger. I think back to a time when I thought I knew black and white. When I thought, in a fleeting moment of clarity, that I was saving Rhyme. I had sent the white blast arcing out towards an unknown enemy, and it had hit Rhyme instead. The vision replays in front of my eyes, and I close them, briefly, as if a shadow-arc has hit me instead.

_Yes. I know the feeling._

"The best laid schemes of mice and men go often askew, and leaves us nothing but grief and pain for promised joy," she quotes humorlessly. It's a dismally sad quote for someone who has spent more time planning than living, and it strikes a chord somewhere deep inside me.

The fire inside of me cools. "I know the feeling."

She sighs sadly, her fingers smoothening out the wrinkles of a crinkled dry leaf. Instead of flattening it, it crumbles, and the little fragments float to the ground. Shattered.

"You can't control everything Josh."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I am too."

Her small hand sneaks over and covers mine, as gently as a bird will alight on a twig. I'm afraid that if I move a muscle, she'll flutter away.

"Are we okay then?" She asks hopefully.

"I guess so. Kind of."

Silence blows between us again, the crumbs of the leaf flying up in our faces with a sudden burst of wind. Rhyme leans against me to shield herself from the spray, and because I don't know what else to do, I just let her.

"This isn't a mistake." She tells me, and though she says it like a statement, I know she means it like a question.

"No. It's not."

"Good." Her small body arches against mine, snuggling into my side as if I can protect her from the entirety of the world.

"You have to tell Beat that I didn't actually save you though." I say suddenly. This has somehow become extremely important.

She snickers. "I think you're suicidal Josh. But alright."

"Alright."

I wrap my arm around her and pull her close, and together we watch the last of the autumn leaves leap from their branches and scatter into the winter winds. I can't be sure that taking this risk will turn out okay. I can't be sure that I can always protect Rhyme from whatever dangers come across her. And I can't even be sure of that we'll last, the way we are, until tomorrow.

But regardless of the future, I have today, I have this moment. And though the best of plans can come undone, that doesn't mean I shouldn't try.

* * *

AN: This chapter doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but I don't really know how else to finish this story (though come to think of it, this story doesn't make much sense either). I think this might have been kind of rushed, but it feels so much longer in my head because of how many times I've rewritten this stupid chapter. One more chapter (epilogue) coming up. Thanks for continuing to support me while I stopped writing for a while.

Jestry


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